The “Impossible House” felt more like a prison than a home, and Sophie Laurent-Croft couldn’t stand the silence anymore. Desperate to bridge the divide, she walked across the wet lawn to the Guest House carrying a tray of tea and sandwiches.
She knocked softly. The door opened, revealing Victoria. She wasn’t wearing the glamour of a pop star; she was wrapped in a thick cardigan, her eyes wide and fearful.
“I brought you something to eat,” Sophie said gently, trying to smile. “I just wanted to say… I’m sorry about the wedding. It was a shock for all of us.”
Victoria took a step back, her eyes fixing on Sophie’s white blouse. To the amnesiac “Elena,” Sophie wasn’t a victim; she was the woman in the white dress standing at the altar while William screamed–a symbol of the chaos that had upended her safe life with Marcus.
“Please,” Victoria whispered, her voice trembling. “Don’t come in here. You look like her. The angry lady from the church.”
“I’m not angry,” Sophie pleaded, stepping forward.
“Stay away from me!” Victoria cried, slamming the door. Sophie stood on the porch, staring at the wood, realizing she had been cast as the villain in her husband’s love story.